I watched him at the funeral. His face bore no signs of grief, but
none of joy either. Just emptyness. How could he feel emotion now? He was
gone forever. He would never see his face again, never hear his laugh. How
could he ever feel again? The one that mattered most to him, his
everything, his only, was dead.
The others cried. They lost too. Their brother, their son, their friend. He ment so much to them all. While the world crumbled around him, he remained as cheerful as ever. Joking and laughing as if the world were but one giant Quidditch match; going badly for them at the time but with hard work and a heapful of enthusiasm, would turn out alright in the end. That was him, and he was dead.
We all expected him to break down soon. He was a shadow of his formal self, a shell. He acted like he was on auto pilate. He ate, he slept, he worked. All empty. He had nothing worth living for.
It was a month to the day of the death when I walked into him crying. I watched the crumpled heap of robe and bright red hair, racked with sobs, heave out a month of sorrows onto the bathroom floor.
"Ron, I can't even look into the mirror without seeing Fred staring back at me."
* * *
A/N: I noticed a while ago that everyone always sees Fred and George as one person. So what would happen if one died? As depressing at it is, I had to use it in a fic. Tell me wha you think.
The others cried. They lost too. Their brother, their son, their friend. He ment so much to them all. While the world crumbled around him, he remained as cheerful as ever. Joking and laughing as if the world were but one giant Quidditch match; going badly for them at the time but with hard work and a heapful of enthusiasm, would turn out alright in the end. That was him, and he was dead.
We all expected him to break down soon. He was a shadow of his formal self, a shell. He acted like he was on auto pilate. He ate, he slept, he worked. All empty. He had nothing worth living for.
It was a month to the day of the death when I walked into him crying. I watched the crumpled heap of robe and bright red hair, racked with sobs, heave out a month of sorrows onto the bathroom floor.
"Ron, I can't even look into the mirror without seeing Fred staring back at me."
* * *
A/N: I noticed a while ago that everyone always sees Fred and George as one person. So what would happen if one died? As depressing at it is, I had to use it in a fic. Tell me wha you think.